A betrayal, coincidence, and a rose
by Alfred's Elevator
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is sent to America due to business, and when he arrives he meets an old friend with many sad memories attached. In the awkward silence he knows he must make things up to his friend, whom he has not seen in years. Can he right the wrongs committed and become friends again? Sucky title, bad summary, will change later. Both are human. USxUS I don't know genres.
1. Chapter 1

Summary-**  
**Arthur Kirkland is sent to America due to business, and when he arrives he meets an old friend with many sad memories attached. In the awkward silence he knows he must make things up to his friend, whom he has not seen in years. Can he rightthe wrongs committed and become friends again? Sucky title, bad summary, will change later. Both are human. USxUK. ****

Arthur's Point of view-**  
**I was not happy, I had never been in such a crowd, not even in my hometown of London. The people of New York were bustling about, completely ignoring all else but their destination. I tried to make myself as small as possible so people would stop bumping me, but it didn't work. I wove my way in and out of the rude Americans, muttering an apology no one heard whenever I bumped into someone. I couldn't wait until I found a hotel to stay at, or for that matter return to Britain. I slowed down for just a second and was slammed violently from behind as a man rushed past. My arms shot out to break my fall and instead pulled another man down with me. The man's many packages scattered and people walked in a wide arc around us, avoiding both us and the packages strewn about. "Oh, I'm so sorry! Here, let me help pick these up." I hurriedly started to pick up the wrapped bundles. "I'm really sorry, a man bumped into me and knocked me over, it was an...A-Alfred?" I stopped talking when I saw the face of the man I had knocked over. Blond and blue-eyed, he stared hard at me for a second, mouth open, unsure of what my sudden appearance ment. He was dressed in a black t-shirt with a band logo on it and jeans, the odd curl of his hair stubbornly sticking up as always. The memories hit me as they always do when I think of Alfred, which is often, but this time they're much more intense, like they were three years ago. I brush them away as he speaks.

"Artie? What are you doing here?"

"I...there was some mishap over here a few weeks ago, an accident happened and a few carpoolers from the American branch got seriously injured. They transferred me temporarily for a few months to a year." I hate that nickname but I leave it be, he doesn't need any negativity from me.

**"**I see..." An awkward silence falls between the two of us, both remembering times long past.


	2. Chapter 2

**Alfred's point of view, flashback-**

The bell rang and the whole class got up as one. Another day of school gone, and only a few left until summer. It was the first week of July and I was passive as always. There were few people who were kind to me, but I didn't mind. I kept my grades around b's and never spoke much so I was pretty much ignored. My American accent didn't help either, my family moved here a little after my third birthday and I have always kept the accent, so I was considered an outsider. My birthday was coming up at the end of the month, though I wasn't excited. I would be fourteen, and my life would be the same as it always had been, my parents drunk and yelling at each other, once and awhile hitting me with something, and me swiping money from them to feed myself. They didn't notice and didn't really acknowledge my existence either so I was free to come and go as I pleased.

It was a warm afternoon and I was walking in the park, taking my usual route home when I saw a guy on the side of the path. He was grabbing his left leg and was clearly in pain. I raced over to him, calling out to him as I ran. "Are you ok? Do you need some help?." He looked to be around 19 or 20, with shortish blonde hair and insanely thick eyebrows. He had black khakis, a white collared shirt and semi-formal black shoes on.

"Ah, could you help me up? My leg is acting up again from an old injury, I only have a tiny limp most of the time but occasionally it becomes almost unbearable." he sighs as I help him up. "Sorry, I don't mean to pester you about my injury, you have places to be..."

"No prob, I could be gone all night." I reply

"You're parents might get worried."

"I promise they won't care. Why don't I take you back to your place?"

"...Ok, would you want to come in for tea when we get there?"

"Ah, yeah, that would be great. Thanks."

"To quote you "no prob." Though don't expect me to say it again, I don't use American lingo." I smile

"My name's Alfred Jones."

"Arthur Kirkland"

We go to his house, a small, somewhat hard to find place, and he brings me into the living room. Everything is clean and perfectly in order, and I already feel quite comfortable as I hear him in the kitchen making tea. I'm not the biggest fan, but I figured it would be rude to decline so I will drink it anyways. He returns carrying a teapot, two cups, and a bowl of sugar cubes on an ornate tea tray. "I hope you don't mind sugar? I ran out of honey yesterday." he said, though he said it kinnda awkwardly, like he wasn't used to much company. I smile and reply

"Sugar's great." he smiles weakly

"Good, I don't entertain much so you'll have to excuse me if I do something wrong."

"That's fine, I never interact with others, they all think I'm weird."

"Why is that? You seem quite nice to me, helping me like that."

"My accent throws people off, they think I don't belong or something like that. Plus I have a hard life at home so everyone avoids me."

"That's ridiculous, if others want to share in Britain's beauty(A/N Don't we all? Just Kidding) then we should welcome them, I feel that's my duty as a Briton. Anyway, do you live here?"

"Yeah."

"Were you born here, or did you move?"

"I moved when I was two."

"Oh, I see. Um...What's your favorite color?"

"Um...red, what about you?"

"Blue." He gives another weak smile and we both sip our tea in silence for awhile. Finally when he picks up the empty cups I notice a chain around his neck.

"What's that chain?" I ask, pointing.

"Oh, this?" He says, pulling out an old coin strung on a dull silver chain. He pulls the chain over his head and hands it to me. I examine the silver coin, worn and tarnished, it held an odd beauty and felt like it meant held deep meaning. "One of my distant relatives was a pirate, this has been in the family since the 1700s." Arthur continued. "I always wear it. It's beautiful, it's mysterious, who knows who held it, or what adventures it's seen. It never bores me to think of it's life. Buried in a chest perhaps, maybe in the pocket of a captain until he ran into the pirates. The possibilities are endless. Imagine it, out on the raging sea, masters of it all. Daring, brave, adventurous, being a pirate must have been so exciting..." As he finishes I notice a longing in his eyes. It's strange, I never would have thought the well-mannered, proper man before me would consider a life like that, pillaging, dueling, and out on the sea every night. I hand him back the necklace and he slips it back over his head, tucking it into his shirt. "Would you like to come back tomorrow? I don't want to pressure you but i've enjoyed your company."

"That would be great, thank you."

"Of course, are you sure your parents won't mind?"

"They don't, I can assure you of that."

"...Alright, how does four o'clock sound?"

**"**I'll be there."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: Hey readers, I'll make this brief. Thank you so so much foreversnowynights and vodkas siter for my first review and follow! It means alot to know someone's reading the story and cared enough to follow or review! (^,^)**

Arthur's point of view, flashback about 2 years later-

I finish putting tea and scones on the tray and return to the living room, Alfred is sitting on the couch waiting for me. I set the tray on the table and pour him tea while he tells me about the fight his parents had had the night before. I'm concerned for him, I've seen him once or twice a week for a couple years now and he almost always comes with new cuts or bruises. Sure enough, his jaw shows the sign of recent abuse. I sigh,

"What did they hit you with this time?" I ask with concern, cutting off his story, I had heard enough.

"It was my mom, she had a shovel. I interrupted her gardening..." I nod slowly, and I decide something.

"Alfred? I'm going to make a call in the other room, please just enjoy the tea."

"Oh, ok." I make my way to my bedroom and close the door. Walking to the phone I hesitate before dialing. I had been wanting to do this for awhile now but I always held out. Alfred always seemed so happy and I enjoyed my friends company, but he was 16 now. And if I didn't do something he may not have a future, he was struggling in school and needed better influences in his life. Not to mention the fact that I hate seeing him hurt. I take a deep breath and start dialing. 0808 800 5000...The dial tone plays and I wait until I hear a woman pick up.

"Hello, NSPCC."

'Hello, I would like to report child abuse."

"Alright, please tell me what you know." I tell her everything important and give her Alfred and my address.

"He's at my house now, I would like to talk to someone when they come to get him."

"I understand, we'll be over in a little while." She hangs up and I return to the living room.

"Alfred, I have something to tell you. I called the NSPCC, they're on there way here to take you into custody. They'll get you through school and care for you from now on."

"...What? What do you mean Artie?"

"You'll live at the shelter or whatever from now on,"my eyes are starting to water. "You'll grow up properly and become successful, a great person...I'm sorry, I had to do it. I can't stand you coming here abused every week, I can't see it any longer, you need to be in a better place. You won't get hurt anymore and you'll have people there who care about you."

"Don't you care? I thought you did, was I wrong?"

"I did this because I do care Alfred, I always will. I want the best for you, but I know you can't get it here...Please understand." he stared at me confused,

"B-but I'm happy here, I love seeing you, I don't care that I get hit, you always make me feel better. I can't go, you're the only friend I have, I want to keep coming here. I can't leave, what if I am sold to slave dealers or something, or they don't feed me enough. I'll be just another failure put temporarily in their charge."

"It's for the best. Alfred, I-" there's a knock at the door, "Here, take this," I say, pulling the chain that holds the old coin from around my neck, and slipping it on his. "You're the best friend I've ever had, so I want you to take this." he stares at the floor, unresponsive. I put my hands on his shoulders briefly and answer the door. After a quick conversation with me they lead him silently out the door, no doubt to pick up his belongings that are at his house. The woman I had talked to on the phone approaches me.

"You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes, is there anyway I could check up on him, or you can send me letters telling me how he's doing?"

"I'm afraid not, once he's taken into our care you will lose contact with him." she says. I nod and she leaves after a quick goodbye. I sit on the couch silently, staring at the tea he never finished, wondering if I did the best thing and reassuring myself that he would be fine. After all, he had been through alot and it had made him tougher than many adults. I remember the highlights of our friendship. The time he had brought me a frog he had caught on the way to my house and accidentally let it loose in the house. The time I had surprised him on his birthday with a cake and he had hugged me with tears in his eyes. All the memories played as the room grew dark around me and I finally fell asleep, dreaming of him as well.

**Author's note, again. Well there you go. It's a short chapter, all of them are, but I hope you guys enjoyed. The flashbacks are over so I will be returning to the present next chapter, Please review, even if the only word is "Horrible" (or something worse) a review is a review. Also, please point out any errors or ideas or whatever. I want my writing to be the best is can, and I don't have much experience at 14. Constructive criticism is very appreciated and I will of course be ecstatic if more reviews come in. Thanks for reading! **


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